


Five Years Time

by nikkiRA



Series: Dimilix Week 2021 [4]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Crying, Desk Sex, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-17 07:48:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29589558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nikkiRA/pseuds/nikkiRA
Summary: “Why can’t you? Felix, marry me.”“They won’t let you.”“They can’t stop me!” Dimitri exclaims. “I will not condemn some woman to a loveless marriage just so she can bear me children, and I will not pretend that I have ever been capable of loving anyone but you.”
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Series: Dimilix Week 2021 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2162679
Comments: 7
Kudos: 96
Collections: 2021 Dimilix Week





	Five Years Time

**Author's Note:**

> this can be a standalone but it's also technically a prequel to my old!dmlx fics that i've been working on for literally like, over a year, so thank you to this marriage prompt for finally getting me to finish it. 
> 
> HAPPY BIRTHDAY FELIX i have a birthday fic planned for tomorrow that hopefully i finish because i also have like.....homework i've been ignoring LMAO

He hears Dedue’s steady voice, carrying through the door as he tries to tell whoever is there that Dimitri doesn’t want to be disturbed, but then he hears a familiar voice arguing back and lifts his head. 

“Dedue,” he calls. The door opens and Dedue sticks his head in, looking immediately unimpressed. 

“Dimitri, may I remind you that you specified that you should not be disturbed today unless it was an emergency?”

“Well, this -- who’s to say this isn’t an emergency?”

Dedue’s blank stare speaks volumes. Dimitri shifts under his gaze, feeling incredibly seen. But all Dedue does is say, in a very resigned voice, “Yes, Your Majesty,” before heading back out. A moment later Felix walks into the office. 

“Felix,” Dimitri says, trying not to sound  _ too  _ overly fond. “I didn’t receive your note.”

Felix comes over and sits on the desk, effectively blocking Dimitri’s mountain of paperwork. “What note?”

“The note saying you were coming. I would have cleared my schedule.”

“Hmm,” Felix says, picking up a report from Count Galatea and flipping through it. “I wasn’t aware I had to send a note,” he says dryly. Dimitri runs a hand up his thigh. 

“Well, it’s just common courtesy,” he says lightly. “What if I’d had one of my other lovers in here?”

Felix snorts in amusement. “Is that why Dedue was trying to keep me out?”

Dimitri pulls on Felix’s shirt, tugging him into his lap. Felix winds his arms around Dimitri’s neck as Dimitri runs his hands up his back. 

“He stalled you long enough to sneak them out the window.”

“Out the window? Of a tower?”

Dimitri gently unties the ribbon in his hair and lets it loose around his shoulders before pulling him in close. “They’re very athletic.”

“Flexible, too, I bet.” Felix’s lips brush his when he speaks. 

“Oh, extremely.” He finally kisses him. Felix runs a hand through Dimitri’s hair and shifts impossibly closer on his lap. They kiss until Dimitri is hard and aching, fingers leaving bruises on Felix’s hips. When Felix moves his lips to Dimitri’s jaw he manages to ask, “Why are you here? Is everything okay?”

“I have tax reports,” Felix mutters, nipping at Dimitri’s jawline. 

“Tax reports,” Dimitri repeats. “Delivered in person by the Duke himself. If I didn’t know better I’d say you just wanted to see me.”

“Good thing you know better,” Felix says. “You must be confusing me with one of your other lovers.”

Dimitri chuckles low in his throat. “Well there are so many of them. It’s hard to keep track.”

Felix works his hands up Dimitri’s shirt. “Stop talking, Dimitri,” he says peevishly. Dimitri smiles and then lifts him by his thighs, sitting him on the desk and lifting his shirt over his head. He pushes the mountain of paperwork off the desk and has the brief thought that Dedue is going to kill him before pushing that out of his head and stripping out of his own clothes. Felix wiggles out of his pants while Dimitri opens the top drawer of the desk for the oil, coating his fingers with little fanfare. He kisses Felix as he fingers him, working him open slowly and carefully, the way Felix hated. Sure enough, Felix only puts up with this for a short while before he starts whining into Dimitri’s mouth. 

“I know you’re doing this to annoy me.”

“Doing what?” Dimitri asks neutrally. Felix shifts his hips impatiently and bites down hard on Dimitri’s lip. 

Dimitri fingers him until Felix starts to do his version of begging, which is just begging while sounding annoyed. Then he pulls him off the desk, turning him around to bend him over it, placing a big hand on the small of Felix’s back as he pushes into him. Felix grips the edge of the desk and muffles his moan into his arm, pushing his hips back against Dimitri. He watches as Felix fucks himself on Dimitri’s cock, until Felix says, “Dimitri, come  _ on, _ ” and he decides he’s teased him long enough. He keeps a hand on Felix’s back, holding him in place as he fucks him at the pace they both want, hard and unrelenting. Dimitri can feel the desk shake and rattle and distantly offers up a prayer that they don’t break it. He’s starting to get embarrassed each time he has to request a new one. 

Felix props himself up on one of his elbows and brings his other hand around to jerk himself off, still muffling each moan and plea with his arm. Dimitri desperately wants to hear them, but it takes certain circumstances for Felix to let go and let himself be loud, and unfortunately, bent over a desk with Dedue outside is not one of those circumstances. Dimitri focuses on the other signs of Felix’s pleasure, instead; the way he jerks back to meet each thrust, the steady movement of his arm as he pleasures himself, and, if he really listens, the whispered cry of  _ Dima, Dima, Dima.  _

The first time Felix had let  _ that  _ name slip, Dimitri had been so shocked he’d stopped fucking him. Each time Felix says it still feels like the first, like sitting by the fire after getting caught in the rain. Warmth and comfort and the feeling that things would be okay. 

He pulls out, ignoring Felix’s noise of indignation, sitting down on his chair and pulling Felix into his lap, his back to Dimitri’s chest. Felix hates when Dimitri hauls him around “like a fucking sack of potatoes,” but it really was the easiest way to get Felix into the position he wanted. Dimitri lines up and pushes back into Felix, hooking his arms beneath Felix’s knees as he plants his feet and starts fucking into him again; Felix’s head falls back against Dimitri’s shoulder, breathless moans spilling out of him as Dimitri’s hands grip the back of his thighs.

Felix is getting more and more unintelligible, which is how Dimitri knows he’s getting close. He spreads his legs a little more, making himself a little more steady, and then he bites down hard on Felix’s shoulder. Felix cries out his name when he comes, tightening so sweetly around him, and Dimitri moans, love and desire and a thousand other emotions swirling together in his chest as he comes, shooting inside of Felix, who is muttering  _ that’s it, that’s it,  _ ever so softly. 

“I missed you,” he says, pressing a kiss to Felix’s neck and resisting the urge to bite down and mark it. Felix’s legs have slumped; he turns his head and presses a kiss to Dimitri’s jaw. 

“Sap,” he says affectionately.

* * *

“I have a meeting today,” Dimitri mentions, as he is stumbling around getting dressed. Felix is lounging on the chair and watching him. “Will you join me?”

“I suppose,” he says, sounding not too pleased. “Will darling Lord Oliver be there?”

“You know he will,” Dimitri says tiredly. Felix sighs heavily. 

“I won’t be nice,” he warns. 

“You never are,” Dimitri says lightly.

* * *

The meeting is going the same as normal -- boring and tiresome, if he was being completely honest, but a necessity that he could handle as King -- when Gilbert clears his throat and says, a touch awkwardly, “Your Majesty, there is a… delicate matter that we, as your counsel, believe needs to be addressed.”

Dimitri sits up straighter. “Speak freely, Gustave,” he says. Gilbert glances around at the rest of the counsel, which is unsettling, and then his gaze lands rather firmly at Felix, which is worrying. Then he looks right at Dimitri and says, “It is time you find a wife, sire.”

Dimitri stiffens, and he has to fight to stop himself from looking over at Felix. “I -- I see.”

“It has been five years since we won the war. I understand that you wished to see Faerghus recovered before you focused on anything else, but I think it is time we be more honest with ourselves at just how much restoration is going to be needed. We have a country to restore and all of Fodlan united. It is simply not realistic to put off marriage until then. A wife and, eventually, a child --” Dimitri swallows. “Will also help to further cement your role. These are tumultuous times, Your Majesty. An heir would do well for the country.”

Dimitri had been well aware of how long Faerghus' recovery would take -- that was exactly why he had set that as his parameter. But he’d always known this time must come. He takes a drink of his water glass to try to quell his nausea and then he says, “Do you have anyone in mind, at the moment?”

Before Gilbert can respond, Lord Oliver opens his squirrely little mouth and says, “We wanted to ask you, Your Grace. We are all a shade too old to understand who is desirable at the moment.”

Felix blinks when he’s addressed, and Dimitri turns on Lord Oliver, trying to mask his anger, but before he can open his mouth to speak Felix kicks him rather hard in the leg. 

“I think he should marry the von Nuvelle girl,” he says, crossing his arms. Dimitri can’t help but gape at him, both at how unaffected he seems (although he should expect that of Felix) and at how quickly he had come up with an answer. If currently pressed, Dimitri isn’t certain he’d even be able to name a woman at all. 

“But -- von Nuvelle house is no more,” one of the other members of his counsel says, but Felix has an answer ready. 

“Try telling that to Constance,” Felix says dismissively. “She’s determined to restore it with honour. If Dimitri marries her he’ll be showing the former Empire that he is dedicated to helping them rebuild, it might win some of them to our side. We can build up the von Nuvelle house. An olive branch to the Empire.”

“The Alliance --”

“Is not nearly as hesitant to trust us as the Empire is, and you know it.” And then, abruptly, he stands up. “If you’ll excuse me,” he says, offering no explanation of why he was leaving. Dimitri watches him go, an awful feeling in his stomach. He turns back to the men in front of him, and thankfully Gilbert takes control again. 

“Duke Fraldarius makes a good point. I will have a list put together, Your Majesty.”

“Perhaps it is best,” Dedue says from his other side, “if we all follow the Duke’s example and break for today.” Dimitri could cry with how much he appreciates it; Dedue truly knows him better than anyone. 

“Yes, I believe you’re right,” Gilbert says, and Dimitri is released. 

Dedue wants him to go back to his quarters, saying that he looks extra pale, but Dimitri instead sets out to try and find Felix. He is only finished checking Felix’s room when he is needed for something or other, but Dedue gives him a meaningful look and then goes off to continue the search. 

It is not long before Dedue returns, finding Dimitri back in his office. Dimitri looks up eagerly, but Dedue shakes his head. 

“Felix left,” is all he says, and Dimitri slumps. 

* * *

A week later Felix is sitting at his desk, taking another shot at writing Dimitri an apology, when there is a briek knock on his door before it opens. 

“His Majesty is here to see you, Your Grace.”

Felix rolls his eyes. “Of fucking course he is. Tell him I’m in here.”

A few years ago his staff would have blanched at such a request, at Felix’s utter lack of decorum around the king, but they were long past used to it now. 

When Dimitri arrives he shuts the door behind him and then halts, as if he hadn't thought this far. Felix sighs. 

“I’m sorry I left,” he says, because he is. It was childish, and Dimitri deserved more than that, and besides, it wasn’t as if Felix hadn’t known this was coming. 

“It’s all right,” Dimitri says softly. “I understand why you did.”

Felix tries to think of how to say what he needs to say. That he understands Dimitri has a duty. That this was never long term. That he’s fine. The problem is they are all lies, and they taste like poison on his tongue. 

And then Dimitri says, “I don’t want to marry Constance von Nuvelle.”

“Okay? It was just a suggestion.”

“No, Felix -- I don’t want to marry anyone. I only want --”

Felix springs up from his chair and walks over to the window, putting distance between them. “Do  _ not.” _

“Do not what?” Dimitri asks, and it sounds like a challenge. 

“Do not say it.”

“Do not say what? That I want to marry you?”

Felix physically flinches, and he turns around to glare at Dimitri. “Do  _ not.  _ Do not dangle that in front of me as if it’s something I could ever have.”

“Why can’t you? Felix, marry me.”

“Don’t be naive. You’re the king.”

“Yes. I am the  _ king,”  _ and he says it with such power that Felix feels the hair on the back of his neck stand up. 

“They won’t let you.”

“They can’t stop me!” Dimitri exclaims. “I will not condemn some woman to a loveless marriage just so she can bear me children, and I will not pretend that I have ever been capable of loving anyone but you.”

“Please,” he says, voice flat. “Stop making this worse.”

Dimitri takes a few steps forward, and when Felix does not move to stop him he closes the distance completely, taking Felix’s hands in his. “I am trying to build something new. I want to create a world where blood and status are not more important than who you are as a person. And I will be the beginning of that change.”

“And what of heirs?”

“There are ways around that. There are thousands of orphaned children without a home.”

“And your Crest? You will let it die out?”

“Yes,” Dimitri says seriously, with no hesitation. Felix looks at him and then looks away; he is too bright to look at. 

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” Felix says softly. 

“What do you mean?”

“Everyday I have been preparing myself to let you go. I have been ready for this announcement since the first time you kissed me. I knew this would end.”

“It doesn’t have to,” Dimitri says firmly, and Felix whirls on him. 

“Yes it does! Don’t be naive, Dimitri. They will never let me have this. They will never let me  _ have you.” _

Dimitri moves closer and takes Felix’s face in his hands. “You already have me,” he says softly. “Every part of me. Do you not see that? Every piece of me, every heartbeat, belongs to you.”

Felix can feel his cheeks burning. “Don’t say shit like that.”

“Why should I not say it, if it’s the truth?”

“Just think this through for one minute, will you? You will need approval of the counsel. You really think they’ll give that to you?”

“I couldn't care less about the counsel. I will have the support of Duke Fraldarius, and the new Margrave, and I am sure Count Galatea will support me. Not to mention the new Archbishop, and I could even write to the King of Almyra if need be. We will not be fighting this alone.”

Felix shakes his head. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because the thought of living the rest of my life without you is simply too much to bear.”

Felix looks away, because he thinks that -- mortifyingly -- he might cry. “It won’t be easy.”

“I know,” Dimitri answers. “But it is what I want. And it is what I believe is best. Now will you do me a favour, Felix? You still have not given me an answer.”

Felix snorts. “I decided I was going to marry you when I was five years old. Glenn told me I was being unrealistic. Shows how much he knew.”

“Is that a yes?”

Felix laughs in surprise. “Yes, it’s a yes. As if I would ever -- idiot.” He clears his throat. He’s  _ not  _ crying. Dimitri smiles widely at him, and he definitely  _ is  _ crying. He pulls Felix to him and kisses him, and it’s wet and gross and Felix is  _ not crying,  _ and when they pull away Dimitri says, “I hope you won’t find me presumptuous, but -- well, I brought the ring. Just in case. You know, my mother’s ring. We will have to find a way to rework it, but --” he pulls it out, the delicate silver band and emerald gem. Felix eyes it and then -- slips it easily onto his fourth finger. 

He and Dimitri both stare at it. Felix says, “I really don’t know how I feel about the fact that your mother’s ring fits me perfectly.”

Dimitri laughs the gross laugh of someone trying to hold back a lot of tears. “Marry me.”

“I already said yes,” Felix says. 

“Say it again.”

Felix pulls Dimitri into him roughly, arching up on his toes and kissing him hard. Dimitri finds his hand and traces over the ring. It will have to be adjusted, of course, made a little more suitable so Felix can wear it comfortably beneath his gloves and handle his sword and shield, but they can work all of that out. They can work everything out. 

Felix says, “Yes.”

* * *

Claude doesn’t come, although he does offer. He also offers to write Lorenz to get  _ him  _ to come, but Dimitri turns that down, as well. He doesn’t want to escalate this before it’s even started. 

In the end, it is the six of them who face his counsel -- Felix, Sylvain (or, more accurately, Margrave Gautier), Ingrid representing her father, Dedue, Byleth -- and him, of course. 

The thing is Dimitri is fully prepared to win this argument, and he is willing to go down the path of exerting his power in a way he hasn’t since those first months before Gronder if need be. He just really hopes it  _ doesn’t  _ need to be that way. 

He takes a deep breath and reaches under the table, grabbing Felix’s hand and squeezing. Then he nods for the meeting to begin.

* * *

There are three solid groups, as expected -- there are those who are fully supportive of the idea, mostly the five with him but a couple surprising votes of confidence from some of his more open minded advisors. There are those who are in the middle, not quite certain -- this is where the majority of them lie. Then there are those who are adamantly against it, and Dimitri is unsurprised that Lord Oliver’s is the loudest objection. There is a bit of yelling back and forth, buzzwords like  _ tradition  _ thrown in his face, until eventually he raises a hand, and silence falls. 

“Gustave,” Dimitri says. “I would ask you your opinion.”

He hasn’t spoken yet, has been sitting silently with a hand on his chin, deep in thought. When Dimitri speaks to him, he sighs. 

“I received a letter from my daughter the other day,” he says. “She was telling me about her students, and how sometimes they get discouraged by their mistakes. She told me that she says to them: it only ever takes one time to get it right.” Gilbert looks Dimitri in the eye. “I will stand by your side, Your Majesty.”

Once Gilbert lends his support, most of the counsel follows. Lord Oliver watches as tradition is picked apart bit by bit, and he finally says, in the most simpering voice, “Your Majesty, if I may --” 

Dimitri very badly wants to say  _ you may not,  _ but he lets him ramble his whiny objections anyway. 

“I will… take that into consideration,” Dimitri says when he’s finished. Lord Oliver deflates slightly, casts a sulky look at Felix, and then bows. 

“Yes, Your Majesty,” he says nasally. 

Dimitri finally looks to Felix, then, and is shocked when he sees him with his eyes closed, face completely blank. Dimitri takes one look at him and says, “If I could have some privacy, please.” His tone must make it clear he’s not asking, he’s telling, because nobody puts up a fight -- they just exit one by one, Sylvain winking at him, Byleth placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, and when the door shuts behind the last of them Felix drops his head into his arms and bursts into tears. 

It’s been so long since Dimitri has heard him cry,  _ really  _ cry, that he completely freezes for a moment, caught off guard. When his head clears a little he moves forward to rub Felix’s back soothingly as he cries, marvelling at the sight. He couldn’t even begin to guess when the last time he saw Felix cry was. 

“Shut up,” Felix says thickly. 

“I’m not saying anything.”

“Shut up,” Felix says again, lifting his head and wiping at his face. “Fuck. I hate this. Fuck.” He sniffs and wipes his nose on his glove. “Shut up.”

Dimitri laughs and wipes at his tear stained cheeks. He forgot how bright Felix’s eyes always got when he cried. “This was never supposed to happen,” Felix says, tears continuing to fall faster than Dimitri can wipe them away. He leans forward suddenly and kisses Dimitri, scrambling out of his chair and into Dimitri’s lap, and Dimitri wraps his arms snugly around Felix’s waist and holds him tight. Felix rests his forehead on Dimitri’s shoulder, hands still shaking slightly as he holds the edges of Dimitri’s cape. “You never do what you’re supposed to do,” he says. “I was supposed to let you go.”

Dimitri can’t help but feel that one of the reasons they’re both here is because neither of them do what they’re supposed to. He eases Felix’s head up so he can see his face; Felix sniffs again, each one sounding progressively more and more annoyed, and then he says, “I love you.”

Dimitri kisses him. “Marry me,” he says. Felix gives a wet sounding laugh.

“You’ve already asked that. That’s why we had this stupid meeting.”

“I like asking it,” he says, leaning forward and nuzzling at the sharp outline of Felix’s jaw. “I like hearing you say yes.”

“If you keep asking the same question you might hear an answer you don’t want.”

“Oh? Like what?”

Felix kisses him, pulling back only the barest inch so his lips brush Dimitri’s every time he talks. “Like I’ll only marry you if you let me kill Lord Oliver on our honeymoon.”

Dimitri runs his hands up Felix’s back and tries to remember if he’s stashed any oil in this room somewhere. “I’ll think about it,” he says. Felix kisses him again, dirtier this time, arms around Dimitri’s neck and hips grinding down as he kisses him slow and filthy. Dimitri thinks about his entire future, stretching out just like this. His cheeks are wet, tears splashing onto them with each kiss. He’s not sure who they belong to anymore. 

He’s pretty sure it doesn’t matter. He finds Felix’s hand, pulls off his glove and traces the ring on his finger, lifts his hand to press a kiss to his palm. The sun is shining bright through the curtains, casting a glow around the room. Everything is brighter, now. 

Felix kisses him again, and again, and again. 

**Author's Note:**

> consistent povs??? who needs that??
> 
> anyway i know gilbert might be a little ooc because he's not a waste of space but uhh let's just say it's annette's influence.


End file.
